


Limbo

by Inell



Series: Just Like Me [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Banter, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski UST, Emotions Are There, FBI Agent Derek Hale, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Just No Admissions Yet, M/M, Mention of Being Buried Alive, Mutual Pining, Pack Family, Pack are FBI Agents, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Slash, Prequel, Prequel to that Series, Set in my Just Like Me series Verse, You do not have to read the series to read this, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 22:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9681878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Stiles and his team are on an undercover stakeout that’s not going too well. Derek’s using his powers for good, but Stiles knows it’s not the right moment for their relationship to change.





	

**Author's Note:**

> frostniskare “I bet I can make you scream my name.” Sterek
> 
> This is your fic prize for winning second place in my birthday giveaway! I really hope you enjoy where the muse took the prompt, as I’m sure it’s not in the direction you had in mind. Hopefully, you’ll like it anyway! For those who read my [“Just Like Me” series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/629888), this fic could be considered a prequel in that verse. You do not have to read that series for this story to make sense! That's just the part where they actually get together. Fic #42 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge

“I bet I can make you scream my name.” The words are accompanied by the thick stench of whiskey and good old-fashioned bad breath.

“Yeah, see, I’m not really feeling it so I’m gonna have to decline that bet.” Stiles scans the club looking for the potential suspect, trying to ignore the old pervert attempting to pick him up. He’s not interested, and he made it clear, so the guy should leave soon.

“Do you know who I am?” Old Pervert asks, blinking bleary eyes at him and looking so surprised that Stiles refused his disgusting offer that it’s almost funny. The key word being _almost_.

“He’s Barthalomew Thomison the Fourth,” a helpful voice pipes up in his ear. “He’s wealthy and political, which means hands off unless you want to get called into Rafe’s office to explain yourself.”

“Great combination,” Stiles mutters, wishing Danny hadn’t been so prompt with an answer because then he might have got away with punching the overbearing ass. He looks at the guy and, yeah, he just can’t do it. “Sorry, dude. I’m really not interested.”

Before any kind of confrontation can happen that might result in a mark in Stiles’ file and an unwanted meeting with his boss, he grabs his drink and walks away from the bar. “Good save, but you lost me ten dollars,” Erica says in his ear, the sound of typing on a keyboard the accompanying soundtrack to her pouting.

“But you won me ten, so it’s all good,” Isaac adds, switching channels to add his two cents. “By the way, how the hell did Boyd manage to make you look that good, Stilinski?”

“You know I always look this good, Isaac.” Stiles brings his glass to his mouth to conceal the fact that he’s talking to himself. “Don’t be jealous.”

“Stop the banter and focus on the mission.” Derek’s voice is gruff and sharp, reminding them they’re on a serious case right now, but also taking away the playful edge they need to deal with this kind of shit. “I’m not noticing anyone suspicious in the lounge.”

“The private rooms are clear,” Allison says. “Well, not _clear_ , but the suspect isn’t in any of them.”

“I’m on the way to the playroom,” Stiles says, knowing that’s likely where they’ll find the guy they’re after anyway. A serial rapist who drugs his victims after meeting them in sex clubs isn’t likely going to target people already in private rooms or hanging around the lounge. Stiles checked the bar first since Derek had snapped a ‘no’ when he announced his intention to start in the playroom, but, now, it’s the most logical place for his stakeout.

“Stiles, remain at the bar.” Derek is still snappy, big shocker, but he’s being stupid. Stiles is the best profiler on the west coast. Only his inability to weigh his knowledge and skills against every profiler with the FBI prevents him from saying with certainty that he’s the best at the bureau, but he greatly suspects that’s true, too.

“Sorry, what was that? I think there’s some interference with the sound system,” Stiles lies smoothly, totally ignoring Derek’s orders because, well, no one died and made Derek team leader for this one. Lydia is actually in charge this time, and she has the utmost faith in Stiles’ abilities.

“Damn it, Stiles,” Derek growls, the sound not doing anything at all to make Stiles tempted to stop and wait for back-up. Growling Derek usually has the opposite effect, in fact.

The playroom at Limbo is an eye-opening experience. Stiles hasn’t been to an actual sex club before, but he’s pretty fascinated by everything he’s seen tonight. It isn’t anything like the seedy place he imagined, but there’s definitely a lot of nudity and exhibitionism going on. Working for a mobile unit with the FBI means that he’s always on the go, flying here, there, and everywhere, and relationships have never particularly interested him anyway. The only one he’s had is with his right hand, and that’s all he really needs occasionally to relieve his tension. Still, he can understand why a place like this might appear in some people’s fantasies.

“You’re looking for a guy in his mid-thirties. Good looking, average height, blond hair, dark eyes.” Lydia is rattling off the description like it’s a grocery list. “If you come across anyone fitting the suspect’s description, do not engage. Do you understand, Stiles?”

“Got it, Princess.” Stiles walks over to watch a woman spanking a guy, admiring the pink hue on the guy’s ass cheeks. He doesn’t interrupt their scene, since this is definitely a formal thing they’re doing right now, but he’s curious if there’s much difference in the wood paddle versus the whip. When the guy lets out a low guttural moan at one particularly hard swat, Stiles wants to ask if it’s pleasure derived from the pain or if it stems from the fact he’s pleasing his partner.

“You look thirsty. Let me get you a refill.” A cute guy is standing behind him, but he’s not blond, so Stiles disregards him as a possible suspect. He’s just another creepy dude wanting to get lucky.

“Sorry I’m late, _babe_ ,” Derek says, flashing a sexy grin that has Stiles blinking at him. Babe? What the fuck? He moves his arm around Stiles’ waist and tugs him up against his body. “Did you make a new friend?”

“Sorry, man. I thought he was single.” Cute guy holds up a hand and backs away.

“Ouch! Cock blocked by Hale. Ten points to Derek,” Erica says in Stiles’ ear.

“That brings him to two fifty-five,” Isaac adds helpfully.

“Compared to Stiles, who is sitting at four ninety-four,” Danny reminds them, sounding gleeful that Stiles is nearly double the Asshole Points as Derek. “I still think we need to include Jackson, though. He’d definitely win.”

“Fuck you, Danny,” Jackson mutters, the sound of techno punk nearly drowning out his voice. “I’m a model of kindness and decorum.”

“It’s illegal to lie to a federal officer, Jackson,” Allison says sweetly, which makes all of the others crack up. Stiles’ lips twitch but he can’t laugh since he’s undercover.

“I don’t get any points for this. I’m not cock blocking, Stiles. I’m saving him from unwanted attention,” Derek grumbles, leaning into Stiles like he’s still playing a part.

“How do _you_ know it was unwanted?” Stiles asks, looking at him. “That guy was relatively attractive, and I _am_ single.”

“He wasn’t your type.” Derek narrows his eyes at him. “He wanted to spank you, Stiles. That much was obvious from the way he was staring at your ass while you were focused on the scene. He didn’t have a clue that you were distracted thinking about the mechanics of it instead of being turned on by the sexual aspects.”

“Oh,” Stiles breathes out, looking into Derek’s eyes as that silent _something_ happens between them yet again. He waits for Derek to pull back, like usual, because that’s what he always does when the tension between them gets undeniable. And Stiles always stumbles full speed ahead into awkward flirting and cringe-worthy attempts at traditional seduction because he _likes_ Derek. Not for sex, because that’s not really something Stiles cares all that much about, but because he’s Derek. “Yeah, I’m definitely too dominant to let some strange guy spank me. Now, you? I might consider it because I trust you.”

“Ugh. We’re muting you two morons now,” Isaac says, groaning as Stiles winces because, yeah, he did just tell Derek he’d let him spank him. Hello Humiliation, it’s your old friend, Stiles.

“I’m a genius; not a moron.” Stiles looks away from Derek to focus on another scene. This one is some kind of sensory deprivation with a blindfold, a gag, and restraints. Looking more closely, he sees earplugs, too. He turns from that one quickly because he can’t help but flash back to being tied up in a wooden box and buried six feet under with a recently killed informant. He doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until Derek takes one and squeezes.

“You trust me, but you wouldn’t enjoy it, so let’s just drop it. I don’t think the suspect is here tonight,” Derek says quietly, not looking at Stiles or their joined hands. He’s rubbing his thumb over Stiles’ knuckles in a comforting gesture that he’d likely pretend never happened if Stiles actually brought it up. “Maybe Boyd and Jackson are having more luck.”

“It’s not the, uh.” Stiles clears his throat and pushes memories of splinters in his fingers out of his mind. He’s been with the FBI for years, part of this force for most of that time, and he’s had far worse happen to him in his life than being buried alive and left for dead. “The timing is wrong. The last victim was found four days ago. Our guy goes at least a week between hunts.”

“The pattern doesn’t deviate, either,” Derek adds, carefully moving Stiles through the crowd towards the quieter area of the lounge. “You told us he’s keeping to a schedule that’s guiding his movements. Anyway, you suggested he’ll likely target the Malibu area next, so we’re probably too far north for a stakeout.”

“You actually listened to me?” Stiles arches a brow and studies Derek intently. “Lydia disagreed with my rationalization of the suspect’s likely movements.”

“Lydia’s been wrong before.” Derek shrugs, his grip tightening slightly on Stiles’ hand. “And I always listen to you, even when you’re in the midst of a caffeine fueled, lack of sleep ramble about the Mets being the best team in the world, which is obviously delusional.”

“The Mets are amazing, and you know it.” Stiles has calmed down now, no longer seeing splinters in his fingers and able to breathe without feeling pressure on his chest. He looks at Derek and gives him his best leer. “You wanna get out of here, big guy? I bet I can make you scream my name.”

Derek’s eyebrows are totally judging him, but his lips are twitching, which means Stiles is totally awesome and amazing. His voice is dry when he says, “There’s no way that I’m playing Call of Duty so you can destroy me with your high score. Never again. I still think you had to have cheated.”

“Pshaw. I never cheat at video games.” Stiles grins because Derek totally got his reference. The Old Pervert had used that line in a sexual way, but Stiles had been thinking about the major defeat Derek suffered last time they hung out playing video games. There had definitely been a lot of Stiles’ name being screamed when Derek kept cursing at him and losing terribly.

“Alright, people. We’re done for the night,” Lydia says in their ears. “Rafe is getting us more intel on the timeline of known victims, so we’ll reconvene tomorrow morning in my hotel room to discuss the next move.”

“I hate going undercover for no reason,” Stiles mutters, pushing himself off the sofa in the lounge where they’d been sitting. “Next time, we should send Isaac and Erica.”

“I’d agree with that,” Derek tells him. “Only we both know that you won’t stay in the van doing surveillance if there’s action happening somewhere else.”

“You know me too well, Derek Hale.” Stiles huffs a laugh, watching Derek’s lip curve into a slight smile.

“Yeah, I do.” Derek stares at him for a moment, that _tension_ back, and Stiles considers forcing it, wonders if it’s finally time to act on it, but he hesitates because he somehow knows this isn’t the right moment.

Reluctantly, Stiles looks away and bumps his hip against Derek’s before he starts walking towards the entrance of Limbo. “You know, we got free movies with our hotel booking. You should come back to mine and watch something brainless and stupid before bed.”

“How about we watch something good and interesting instead?” Derek suggests, his fingers brushing across the back of Stiles’ hand as they walk.

“Do they even make movies that are good anymore?” Stiles glances at him, watching Derek look away, realizing he’d been staring at Stiles as they walked. He bumps against him again as they leave the club and head to the SUV they rented for this mission. “Okay. Yeah, we can watch something good, if there’s anything fitting that description available.”

“You know that you’ll make it fifteen minutes, tops, before you’ve got the files open and your brain working on thirty different plans to offer up at the meeting tomorrow.” Derek’s tone of voice is different, but Stiles can’t quite place it. He’d think it was affectionate if it were anyone other than Derek, but he’s not sure that’s exactly right. Maybe indulgent.

“Possibly, but there’s always a chance that you’ll find some masterpiece of cinematic splendor that distracts me from the current case,” he says, racing ahead when he spots their rental. He reaches the driver’s side first and makes grabby hands. “I’m driving.”

“No, you’re not.” Derek’s eyebrows are judging him, but it’s not that harsh because Derek’s lips are curved into a gentle smile that somehow makes him look younger.

Stiles blinks when he realizes he’s staring and huffs. “I beat you here. That means I’m supposed to drive.”

“I’ve got the keys. Stop whining and get in the car.” Derek ducks his head but not fast enough for Stiles to miss his grin.

“Fine. But I’m driving tomorrow then.” Stiles isn’t going to push, not tonight, not when Derek’s smiling and relaxed and they made it through an undercover op without anyone getting hurt. He walks around the SUV and climbs into the passenger seat. “We should wait for Allison.”

“She’s already gone. She sent me a text as soon as Lydia called the op.” Derek glances at him. “She told me to make sure you get back safely and to do my best to keep you from working all night.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Stiles smiles, though, because Allison’s his favorite. Derek’s his favorite for a lot of complicated reasons, but Allison’s his favorite because she’s like the big sister he never had until they met. “You’re welcome to do your best to keep me from working, though.” He offers Derek an innocent smile and even adds in an eyelash flutter to complete the picture of sweetness he’s attempting.

Derek snorts. “Don’t worry, Stiles. I plan to,” he says confidently. “I’ll get one the Playstation units from the front desk and let you defeat me soundly at whatever games they have.”

“Damn it.” Stiles lightly punches Derek’s arm. “You’re not supposed to use your knowledge about me to manipulate me into _not_ working, you know? You’re supposed to use your powers for good, not evil.”

“Making sure you actually decompress tonight and relax before the meeting tomorrow _is_ using my powers for good.”

Stiles leans his head against the window and smiles, feeling that odd twisting in his gut that happens a lot whenever he’s around Derek and they share moments like this. It’s like that _whatever_ between them, though, in terms of his reluctance to analyze and understand it. Instead, he smiles and glances at Derek. “Looks like you’ll be screaming my name tonight, after all, _babe_.”

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Limbo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15440988) by [taikodragon (hana_ginkawa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hana_ginkawa/pseuds/taikodragon)




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